


Words Like Knives

by Sandalaris



Series: the white rabbit's pocketwatch [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Insane Belle, incorrect dipiction of insanity, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandalaris/pseuds/Sandalaris
Summary: Belle almost remembers. And that's the cruelest thing of all.AU where Belle escaped from the hospital days before Emma showed up.





	Words Like Knives

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't posted in this series in a bit. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> This has some of Belle and Rumple's less happy moments in it. Because the curse can be cruel and words have a special kind of power, especially to Belle and Rumple.

_"I love you."_

Bruises on her arms and spittle on her cheeks. 

_"I love you."_

A denial from his lips and anger in his heart. 

_"I love you."_

His eyes are cold and empty, he's silent as she leaves.  

_"I love you."_

He doesn't even try to stop her and that hurts worst of all. 

_"I love you."_

She wakes up crying in the house with the painted windows and can't figure out why. 

\- 

"Drink your juice." His voice is soft, distant and she doesn't like it. Doesn't like many things, until she does once more. Flipping cards, different picture but same message.

She takes a sip, lets the flavors of oranges and pineapples and mangos coat her tongue. Yellows and oranges. Bright and happy. The warm her up with their biting tartness. 

Silver threads run through the dealmaker's hair, glitters in the morning light like hidden bits of precious metal. Secrets saved for later, but she sees them now. They tug at her, pulling upwards until they snap snap snap. 

_I love him,_ she thinks. But its fleeting and inconsequential. Forgotten in the next moment.

Sets her glass down hard on the table. He doesn't look up, doesn't react and she frowns. Sees the hidden colors of him out of the corner of her eye. Truths she hadn't know existed, except not. 

She loved a man who wasn't a man but who played pretend. 

_(He doesn't want you.)_

Sent away in the world of make believe until the doctors and nurses and bad queen found her and the walls were gray until they weren't anymore and time forgot itself. Thread broke on the wheel, snapping off. Wasn't strong enough, all flimsy straw painted to look like metal. 

Imposter with a false face. 

"You're a man," she reminds him. Reminds the forgetful world. Not a magic wizard in a fairy tale world.

He looks at her now, brows furrowed and amused. Her heart leaps and twists and she places a hand over it to keep it still. 

"I suppose I am," he says with light care. 

He doesn't get it, but neither does she. Got lost along the way and everything switched when her back was turned. 

Need to get better, put away the fanciful things. All made up anyway. 

"Are you real?" 

Needs to know, because _he_ is not and she doesn't want to be tricked again. 

He looks at her then, really looks for the first time in oh so long. But not so long she's forgotten. Gets distracted, but he sees her. Too knowing eyes that haven't changed. Only they have. 

She shakes her head, dislodges the misplaced thought. 

"I am, sweetheart." A hand covers hers, long fingered with clean cut nails. She suddenly, fiercely, wishes they were longer, coming to sharp points that curl at the end. "We're both very much real and here now." 

Eyes shut, closed against the wrong world. Real and here. No longer false and make-believe stories to tell to children. She mouths the words, feels them brush over lips and chin, warm along her jaw. Something aches deep inside, cracks and leaks out until she can breathe again. 

"Bell?" His voice is strained, breaking apart. Mirrors the pain in her throat and she opens her eyes to look at him. To see how real he can be. 

She's holding his hand, lips pressed against the back of his fingers and she doesn't know how they got there. Her eyes burn with salt and wet lines streak her cheeks. 

Words are shaped, mouthed against the flesh pressed to her lips, but no sound can be heard. A name she's forgotten. Or one she's remembering. 

\- 

"Why don't you read one your books?" 

He's being cruel. Voice deceptively kind, eyes soft, but he knows almost everything so he must know this. 

Her face goes cold, her eyes hot. 

"Can't." The word tries to choke her on its way up. 

Another thing taken from her. Except not because this is the way it's always been. She's just forgotten. Silly little girl. 

He looks at her with care and her stomach knots and spots swim in front of her eyes. 

The dealmaker whispers to her, something far away and distant and cutting. Bringing her back. 

_(She should go back.)_

She shakes her head, feels things settle. Better and worse. Two sides of the coin, give it a toss. 

"I can't," she chokes out. 

"What do you need?" The words are hesitant and small. Like him. Meant to deceive one into compliance. But not her, she knew better. Did her research and knew of the beast she invited inside. 

"It won't let me." 

She eyes the book in his hands, sees the script upon the page. The words flicker and swim. Won't stay still and be translated. 

"Doesn't make sense. All broken." A wave of purple ripples across her gaze. "Can't read it." 

Hand darts out before she can tell it not too, shuts the book, pages hitting each other and trapping things inside. It's all wrong! She's supposed to be able to- to... she could. And now she can't. No use fighting what can't be fixed. The thought soothes her. 

Everything in its place. Nice and neat. Lined in rows until they scatter in a messy pile and need to be resorted. 

"You can't read?" Surprise and anger in his voice. She doesn't know why. 

"No. I- no." She looks at him, at the collector who collected her. Hide her away from the nurse and doctors and the pills in his house of dusty treasures. "It doesn't make sense." The words are whispered, falling like a secret, too soft to hurt. But they do, oh they do. 

"The words don't-" He cuts himself off, something like desperation in his eyes and devastation painted naked on his features as he looks at the book in his hands. 

He looks up, hope breaking through like the dawn. Bright and yellow and golden. Like a dress to a party for a man she's meant to marry but won't. 

"I can read it to you?" 

She smiles, because she chose for herself and ran away with the Imp who had the key to all the secret hidden worlds.

\- 

"I love you," she tells him. 

He flinches like she struck him. 

_Good,_ she thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> I *might* have one more of these... some day. For now, I'm going to call this series complete.


End file.
